


Overdue Asshole

by celticvampriss



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, rivetra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:54:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticvampriss/pseuds/celticvampriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU.  Petra is in search of a specific library book that someone still has yet to return.  It’s been two months.  It’s getting ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overdue Asshole

**Author's Note:**

> Please don’t be too critical of the book title/translation I chose for this. I honestly was drawing a complete blank so I did some minimal research. I’m not sure if that book and translation is rare?

Petra’s fingers grazed along the spines of various books.  Passing over each one with her head tilted sideways, she read off their titles in her head.

“Kemple.  Kemple.  Thorpe.  Heaney.  Ugh.”  She mouthed to herself until she finally straightened back up.  It wasn’t there.  Again.

Over a month she had been back and forth to the quaint local library a mile out from the city, but it was the only one that carried that specific translation of Beowulf.  The school library didn’t have it.  The metro-library didn’t have it.  Her internet search showed this library as the closest location with the Rebsamen translation.  Well, if the current holder ever bothered to return it.

Six weeks it had been out.  Petra’s leggings were still damp from the outside, her hair still a bit matted and wet.  The aisle she was in had the air conditioner vent and she tugged her scarf closer around her neck.  She pressed her lips into a hard line and she strode from that row toward the front desk.

“Excuse me.”  She called, to no answer.  There was no one in sight so she tapped the bell lightly.  “Hello?”

An older woman shuffled from the back room.  Her jeweled spectacles swung on a lanyard around her neck.  She looked like she had been sorting books by the Dewey Decimal System at the library since it’s original construction.  “Yes.  Can I help you?”

“Yes, um…” Now that she was standing there, it felt like a silly request.  Petra played with the strap of her bag, but pressed on.  “I was actually hoping you might be able to tell me about a book that’s been checked out?”

The woman’s eyes were sunken and they portrayed her mild annoyance rather easily.  “I can’t.  It’s not our policy.”

“But if you could just tell me when it’s due back?”

“It’s not our policy.”  The woman repeated, shuffling on and starting to scan in books from her cart.  She either wasn’t fully listening or she didn’t care about Petra’s request.  Petra very much felt that it was not a policy one way or the other just to check on a book for her.  Cold.  Annoyed.  Still wet in the toes of her boots.  Petra had been pressed just enough to become reckless.  When the librarian hobbled away with her cart, Petra slipped behind the desk.

The computer was easy enough to use and a simple search found her book for her.  Petra clicked on it and pulled up its entire check out history.  Scrolling down to the most recent she yanked a post-it and borrowed a pen to write down the name.

“Levi Ackerman.”  She whispered to herself and she tried to make her hasty cursive legible.  She looked around for a scheduled return date and…overdue by four months?

“That bastard.”  She said aloud.  The inconsiderate jerk.  He had to have known that particular translation was rare in the city.  She’d taken bus and subway nearly ten miles into the suburbs to find it in this library.  Surely he knew that too?  He had to have done the same searches.  

Petra glanced around to make sure she was still alone and then wrote down his phone number and email address.  She paused with her pen tip in the midst of writing the street number to his address.  Writing it down would be going too far, right?  That would be bordering on stalking.  She read it over a few times, the pen pressed down and ready on the neon post-it.  Finally, she decided it was bad enough she had his phone number.  SHe closed out of the window and then did a half run/walk out the front door.  The little bell chimed behind her as she pulled on her hat and took the stone steps two at a time, her feet catching a puddle and re-soaking her socks.

“Great.”  SHe huffed and set off for the bus stop.

It was a long wait and she would have to transfer a few times to get back to her apartment.  She sat in a window seat and pulled her bag into her lap, cuddling in on herself to get warm.  After a few minutes she pulled out her cell.

The post-it was in her pocket, only slightly crumpled, and she could still read the number.  She typed it in and stared at it.  There was no way she could actually call.  That would be insane.  What would she even say?  ‘Hey, asshole who has my book, could you possibly return it?  I’ll pay the late fees.’

She scooted further into her seat, setting her knees up on the back of the one in front of her.  Instead of calling it she saved the number as a contact.

 _Overdue Asshole_ she typed into the name tab.  Then she saved it and checked her messages and alerts.  Refreshed twitter.  Played her turns on Trivia Crack until she answered incorrectly—who _honestly_ knew which player scored the most home-runs in 2011?  Then scrolled through her Facebook feed while her mind went numb.

Once she was back in the city, it was a quick subway ride to the stop three block from her apartment.  She sat down on the train and took out her phone.  No signal.

Well, maybe that was for the best.  Saved him from the serious words she was sure he deserved.  That jerk.  She knew—because she accidentally memorized his addressed, oops—that he lived in the city too.  So he must have traveled out there to get the book, just as she had.  Figures.  That made it even worse.  She didn’t know _exactly_ where the address lead, but she knew the street and the area.

When she finally fell through her front door she forgot about the book entirely.  She took her boots and hung them from the empty coat hangers on her wall, her socks followed over the back of a stool along the breakfast bar that also served as the dining room table.  Her cat ran to the door and began rubbing against her legs and meowing for food, but she went straight to her thermostat and turned up the heat.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’m going.”  She started to peel off her leggings as she walked to her kitchenette.  Wolly jumped on the counter, scattering a few pens onto the floor.  He was nearly twenty pounds.  He couldn’t do anything delicately.  Petra poured his food into the bowl while he nuzzled her hand so pieces missed and bounced off the edge to the floor.  He ate those first.

While Wollstonecraft was stuffing his face she continued to get comfortable.  She changed into plush cottony clothes and tipped backward over the arm of her couch, reaching up for the queen size throw and wrapping it around herlsef as her legs dangled.  Once a fed Wolly had climbed over her chest and settled in to sleep she dozed off.

1:00 a.m. and her phone vibrating against her couch cushion finally roused her.  She’d had mixed dreams of incessant buzzing in her dreams and some far away notion that there was something she needed to do all thanks to the four missed calls and ten texts and a Facebook invite.

Petra rolled her eyes as she maneuvered around Wolly, who was not happy to be up, and she typed in a quick placating text.  Gunther wasn’t usually so insistent, but when he was out with Auruo his phone didn’t always remain in his possession.  And Auruo could be dramatic.

It was a Saturday night and apparently she was late for plans her friends had made without her.  She took a quick shower, didn’t bother with her hair just tossed it back in a quick pony-tail, and threw on fresh leggings.  Her skirt was still clean and she tossed a jacket over the rest of her.  Whatever they had planned she _had_ to get some food.  

The night was a bit warmer and the rain had mostly dried.  Petra met up with Auruo and Gunther at their usual meet-up, a coffee shop that kept late hours with a wall of books and sometimes local bands or musicians would play.  It was close to two in the morning when Petra arrived.  

“Hey, Petra.”  Gunther said, as she bypassed him and got into the line.  

“Hey.  I hope they still have the stove on.  I haven’t eaten since lunch.”  Gunther moved to stand next to her in the line while Auruo held their table.  “So, guess what.”  She started.  “I went back to that library to find that book and it’s still out.  Over month, can you believe that?  Anyway, I guess I was just riled up cause I was wet and cold and super annoyed and the librarian was purposefully not being helpful when I tried to ask about it so…”  She bit her lip.  

“What did you do?”  Gunther asked, looking down at her with the start of a smile.

“I…well, I sort of looked up who had the book when she wasn’t looking.  You know, just to see when it would be returned.”  She laughed.  “Can you believe the guy who has it has been overdue for months now?  Unbelievable, right?”

He looked down at her twisting fingers and raised an eyebrow.  “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

“Well…”

“You sent him hate mail, didn’t you?”

“No.”  She snapped, offended that he would think that of her, no matter how close she had been to doing exactly that.  “I just got his name and _some_ of his information for…reasons.”  She shrugged, facing forward in line so that she didn’t have to meet his eyes.  She didn’t want to deal with judgment at the moment.  Not until she had food.

“That’s probably not legal.”  He said.

“I’m sure it’s fine.”  She swatted his concern away as the line moved up again and she was next.  She was eyeing the display to find what she wanted to eat.  She had scoped out a few options, weighing the cost with what she could afford, separated her wallet from her purse and waited patiently for her turn.  Then she heard a barista call out a name that made her drop her wallet.

Petra’s head spun toward the end of the counter where the steaming drink sat waiting for its owner.  “Did he just say…?”

“Huh?”  Gunther couldn’t follow her train of thought, he was trying to figure out what she was gaping at.

“That name.  He said, the barista just called out ‘Levi’ or did I mishear that?”  She squinted, looking around for whoever might claim the drink.  No one had come forward yet.  Maybe she hadn’t heard correctly.  The odds were too crazy.  Right?

“May I help you?”  The girl behind the counter asked for a second time and Petra quickly ran through her order.  They were still serving hot food, thank God, and she got herself a mocha as well.  When Petra stepped aside to wait for her food and drink she stepped over to try and see the name on the cup. _Damn.  It must be written on the other side._

She glanced around one more time to be sure no one was on their way to claim the cup.

“Hey, Petra.”  Gunther’s voice stalled her and she huffed as she turned to him.

“What?”

He pointed.  “The name you asked about, you said it was Levi?”

“Yeah?”

He gestured again and she followed his hand, where there were names written on a chalkboard in bright colors near the platform that acted as a stage.  One of the names made Petra shake her head, hardly believing it.  Written in a showy cursive was the name Levi Ackerman.  Of all the odds…

Then suddenly a body swept past her, blocking her view temporarily, and she caught a whiff of something strong—a cologne? but it wasn’t overpowering in the way that colognes can be.  Petra’s head followed the figure as his hand reached out and plucked the cup off the counter.  His back had been to her the entire time as he faded again into the crowd.

“Wha…?”  Petra was caught up in the chaos of her own thoughts when Gunther was tapping on her shoulder.

“They called your order.  Everything okay?”  He held out her bag of food and her cup with _Peter_ written on it.  (It wasn’t as far off as other variations of her name assumed by rushing baristas.)

“Yeah.”  She said breathless, then she quickly said, “I mean, I don’t know.  I think that’s him.  That’s Overdue Asshole.”

Gunther smiled.  “Is that what you call him?”

Petra kept talking.  “But it can’t be him.  That’s crazy.  That he would be here.  Right?”

Gunther shrugged.  “Are you going to take your stuff or…”

Petra whipped out her phone and quickly sat at the nearest empty chair.  

“Uh…Petra.”  Gunther tried to get her attention, but she waved his concern away.

Her tongue was out in concentration as she eyed the room, the various people sitting at tables or standing along the walls or with friends.  She went through her contacts until she reached the O’s.  She pressed call and waited.  Her gaze was meticulous, sweeping everywhere for signs of someone checking their phone.  She had almost given up that it would yield anything.  Of course it wouldn’t.  She was being crazy.  She needed food in her system.  This whole thing was getting out of hand.

And then.

At a table far in the corner, where the one light was out so the shadows were heavily, a guy looked at his lit phone, then used a finger to swipe the ignore prompt.

Petra looked down at her own phone right as the call ended and went to voicemail.

That _bastard_.

“Petra.”  Gunther said again, this time trying to take her by the arm.  “I’m so sorry.  We’ll be out of your way in a second.”  Gunther said, confusing her.

Then she turned and saw the people at the table she had planted herself at.  Oh.  Petra offered her apologies and sincerest smile.  Well, _that_ was embarrassing.  She followed Gunther to their table and set down her things.

“What the hell was that?”  He asked, but Petra was too busy looking at the corner of the coffee shop.  He was there.  Him.  Right across the room.  With a magazine and one leg crossed over the other while he sipped his drink.  A brown leather case was next to him on the table, a violin?  Something small like that.  Petra didn’t know music.

“I can’t believe it.”  Petra said, a bit winded.  She took out her food and took a few careful bites.  It was still hot.

“Can’t believe what?”  Auruo said, leaning back in his own chair with a frozen more-chocolate-than-coffee-drink in a clear cup.  “What did I miss?”

Gunther was frowning as he took his own seat.  “Petra?”

“Hm?”  She lifted her head, finally focusing on what was in front of her.  She swallowed, feeling a little guilty.  “Sorry.”

“It was that guy, wasn’t it?  With the library book?”  Gunther said.

“What guy?  What book?  Guys.  What is happening?”

Petra nodded.  “I can’t believe it.  He’s right over there.”  She paused.  If she was being honest, she hadn’t actually expected her theft of his contact information to lead to anything.  She doubted she would have ever had the courage to call or text him.  Email, maybe.  But she’d thrown that out the window when the moment took over and she’d rushed into calling him like some idiot.  That had been a bad move.  But she felt better now that her stomach wasn’t so empty.

“What are you going to do?”  Gunther tilted his head, concerned, obviously, she wasn’t normally a nutcase.

Petra finished her food and opened the top to her drink.  It was a good question.  What could she do?  There were no real options here.  She would do nothing.  Or did she want to come across as a stalker?  Frowning, she let the question hang between them.  Gunther probably had an idea what she was thinking.  Her eyes wouldn’t leave that corner.

“If it’s going to bother you, why don’t you say something?”  Gunther suggested, making her head turn too fast, her neck seized for a second.  She winced.  “I mean, obviously don’t tell him you stole his information from the library.  But maybe you could just say the librarian gave you his name and you saw it on the board.  He’s got an instrument right there, it sounds a lot less…”

“Crazy.”  She finished with a smile.  “Yeah.  It does.  I guess I could.”

“Just do it, or you’ll never let it go.”  Gunther wasn’t usually the type to insist on outlandish behavior.  It was just enough to have Petra asking if he really thought she should.  “I don’t, actually.  But I also don’t think it’s as big a deal as you’re making it.”

“Guys.  What the hell is happening?”  

Petra watched her book hoarder a bit longer.  Cause that was the less creepy option.  He was very still.  None of that fidgeting stuff people normally do when they read.  His face was a bit hard to see still, with his head bent his hair blocked most of his eyes, but she supposed he wasn’t entirely off-putting in the looks department.  If she had to have an opinion.  Or whatever.

She set down her drink.  “Watch my purse, okay?”  She took her phone and slipped it into her coat pocket then started her walk toward his end of the room.  The closer she came, the more her confidence waivered.  Luckily, his table was somewhat near the bathroom so she could easily run past him and no one would know what she had been planning.

Once inside she took a second to gather herself.  She looked in the mirror.  “Oh no.”  She squeaked.  Of course, she had left the house without so much as foundation.  Her hair was a clumpy mess since she’d just tossed it into a pony tail.  Her clothes were okay.  Nothing too wrinkled.  She didn’t have her purse either.  Using her fingers Petra quickly combed out her hair and attempted a braid behind her bangs as a headband.  There was no way the rest of her hair would behave without a brush so she made a neater pony-tail of the short strands and fixed her shorter bangs accordingly.

Why did she even care about her appearance?  She made a face at her reflection.  It’s not like his opinion mattered.  He was obviously a little careless, possibly inconsiderate, if he was going to hog her book for months.  What did it matter if she looked cute or not?  Petra squared her shoulders.  Forget that guy.  He was the one who needed to be embarrassed.  Not her.  

She didn’t give herself that chance to back out, she was striding out the door and stopping directly in front of his table.

The guy, Overdue Asshole, Levi, looked up from his magazine.  His eyes were dark grey, almost black and they were narrowed in mild annoyance at her.

“Do you need something?”  He asked, when it was clear that she was standing there to get his attention.

Petra paused, fighting with her nerves, before he went and casually dipped his head to take another drink of his coffee without looking away from her.  And who even holds their cups like that?  Really?

“Yeah, I do.”  She said, stronger than she had felt leaving that bathroom.  “You have my book.”

“Your book?”

“Yeah.”  She snapped.  “My book.  The one from Rose Public Library?  The one that has been overdue for nearly five months?  Yeah.  That’s not exactly considerate if you know anything about how rare that specific translation is to find around here.”

He blinked.  “Is this about the late fees?”

“What?”  Petra balked, not sure why he was still so calm.  She had her hands on her hips and was not being at all subtle here.  She was probably drawing a look or two.

“Are you the librarian?  People must be skipping out on them a lot if you’d come tracking me down at nearly 2:30 in the morning in a completely different district.”

“I’m not…” She huffed.  “I’m not with the library.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I told you.  You have my book.  I can’t very well check it out if you still have the only copy.”  She was glaring down at him, hoping to be intimidating.  It didn’t appear to be working.

“First, I think we need to clear something up.”

“Oh?”  She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes.  What book are you talking about?”

Petra’s mouth fell open.  “Are you kidding me?”

He raised an eyebrow.  “You’re the one yelling at a complete stranger.  I honestly don’t know what book has your panties so twisted.”

“My…” Her cheeks went red, her mouth fell open.  He can’t just say that?  People don’t just say things like that.  When his calm eyes did absolutely nothing in a way of apology or remorse or even humor, she replied through her teeth, “Beowulf.  The Rebsamen translation.”

He seemed to think, then he raised a finger.  “I do have that.”

“I know.”

“And you tracked me down how?  Libraries don’t just give out that information.  Do they?”

“I…I got your name when I went to ask about the book being returned.  Then I saw it on the board here.”  She pointed as if the evidence was needed.  “I figured that it was you cause, you know, the violin case.”

He hadn’t taken his eyes off her yet, which was unnerving, and Petra was beginning to feel the attention she was drawing.  “Look, can I just sit down for a second?”

He used his shoe to push a chair out for her.

“Thanks.”  She mumbled, sitting down and setting her fists on her lap.  She felt scrutinized and suddenly she was glad she had fixed her hair in the mirror.

“Anyway,” Petra continued, “I just thought that maybe you would consider returning that book.  So that other people could check it out.”

He took another drink.

“Um…”  She kept looking away, sure that she was burst if he kept staring at her.

“You’re welcome to take it for me.”

“What?”  She turned to him quickly, finally meeting his eyes.  Her stomach flipped.

“I’ll give it to you.  Return it to the library whenever you want.”

Petra raised an eyebrow.  “No way, I’m not paying your late fees.”

“Return it after hours.  I don’t care that much.  If you want the book that badly.”

“I, um…I do.  But are you sure?  I mean, you probably owe them like five bucks by now.”

He shrugged.  “I wouldn’t have thought of it anytime soon.”

“Um.  Okay.  That’s…okay.  I would totally take it for you.  And I won’t keep it long, I promise.”

“Like I said, I don’t care.”  He shifted.  “Just answer me something.”

“What?”

He lifted his phone off the table and swiped in the password.  For a few seconds he used his thumb to swipe and Petra’s heart plummeted.  “This wouldn’t happen to be your number, would it?”  He turned the screen toward her.

Yeah…

“Um…n-no.  I don’t think—”

He hit call.

Her phone started to vibrate in her pocket.  She pursed her lips as she glared at him.  Jerk.  Then she fished her phone free and ignored the call.

“So they gave you my phone number?”

“No.”

He put his phone in his pocket.  “Look, it doesn’t matter.  You’re pretty harmless.  You weigh, what, 120?  You’re not exactly threatening.  So if you want the book…do you already have my address or should I write it down for you?”

Petra’s mouth was hanging open.  Levi paused, for once looking less than collected.

“What kind of thing is that to say to someone you don’t even know?”

He seemed genuinely confused.  Petra shook her head.  First the panty comment, which she could overlook because it _was_ a fairly common saying, but commenting on her weight?

“You can’t just go…talking about people’s weight like that.  And what do you know?  You’re not much bigger than me I could probably take you.”  She crossed her arms again.

He actually smirked.  “Doubtful.”

“Okay.  Fine.  I’m not threatening.  You’re incredibly rude.  It doesn’t matter.  When can I get the book from you?”  She was running out of steam quickly.  Talking to him had worked her up and she was still groggy from her impromptu nap.

He sipped his drink.  “I was planning on leaving once I finished.”

“So.  What do you expect me to just wait for you?”

He shrugged.  “Or find some other time to get it.”

“How are you so…never mind.  Fine.  I’ll wait.  Give me a second.”  He ignored her to go back to reading his magazine.  Petra backed up her chair and whipped her head around to head back to her friends.  She snatched up her purse and grumbled under her breath.

“So.  What happened?”  Gunther asked, leaning over on the table so he could glance into the corner.

“I’m going back to his place.”

“What?”  Auruo spilled some of his drink in his lap, cursing and grabbing for some napkins.  “You’re not seriously leaving with some guy you–”

“Save it.” She held up her hand and was typing out a quick message on her phone.  “There.  I sent you the information I have on him.  His address.  His phone number.  If you don’t hear from me, tell the police to start looking there.”

Gunther frowned as his phone buzzed against the table.  “You’re serious?”

“I am totally serious.  Look, this guy’s a jerk, but I don’t get any creeper vibes from him.  I trust my gut, you know?  Plus, I was the one stalking him.  He’s the one who should be worried.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s not a big deal.  Just expect a text from me in a few hours or so.  Okay?  I have to go.  I can’t say for sure that he wouldn’t leave here without me.”  She waved goodbye and jogged back across the cafe.  Was this a bad idea?  

Levi had finished his drink by the time she returned.  He’d tossed his cup in the garbage and picked up his violin case.  She let out a quick breath, her pulse racing.  It really was really no big deal.  Petra’s palms grew sweaty as she moved to follow him.  What was the worst that could happen?


End file.
